


Yoghurt

by The Key To Imagine (whiskeywit)



Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 11:34:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10436766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeywit/pseuds/The%20Key%20To%20Imagine
Summary: Title: YoghurtRating: PG-13Word Count: 1.125Disclaimer: I don’t own the Beatles and never will. I don’t know whether the picture was made by Mike (although I do think so) but if it’s not - I’ve written it like this for the sake of the fic!Set: Early Beatle years (of course xD)A/N: Yes! Another fic about food! HeheEnjoy! Comments and criticisms are appreciated :)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Backup of old fic originally posted to the Beatles community JohnheartPaul, currently residing on key_to_imagine, currently in locked status. Summary contains the header as is on the LJ post.
> 
> Originally posted pre 28 DECEMBER 2008.

I was walking through the street, and as soon as I saw the McCartney house, I noticed Mike was taking pictures of Paul. He was probably practising - he wanted to become a photographer.

Paul was leaning against the wall, a small glass in his hands, seemingly focussed on the glass instead of on the camera. I got nearer, and when I was close enough to see I saw that the liquid in the glass had to be yoghurt of some kind.

For a while, I was just standing next to Mike, observing his ‘object of focuses‘. Although I knew Paul had to know I was there, he didn’t look up from eating his yoghurt. After some time, Mike seemed to be pleased with the pictures he had made and he told Paul he was finished. Then he picked up his equipment and walked away, saying he wanted to go to the park to make some more pictures there. Paul now did look up at me; he knew what I was coming for.

‘’Want some?’’ he asked, and he most definitely wasn’t talking about the yoghurt, even though it must‘ve seemed to be like that to other people who could‘ve heard us at that moment. We had to be rather careful, you know. I nodded, and Paul opened the door of the house. 

When we entered the corridor, the whole house was covered in a slumber of silence. The light was bright and slightly orange-yellow, pouring in through the windows and the warmth of outdoors had apparently soaked the house, making it feel typically like summer. 

After he’d closed the door behind himself, he softly traced the line of my jaw, cocking his head slightly aside and looking at me oh so tempting. 

‘’You know,’’ he started. ‘’You look good today.’’ He ruffled my hair with his one hand, the now empty glass in his other. As he continued to stroke through my hair, he softly placed a kiss on my lips. ‘’I’m just gonna bring this glass to the kitchen, all right? You wait here. I’ll be back in a second.’’

‘’You look good as well, you know,’’ was the first thing I told him when he got back to me. He looked at me, smiling shyly and his cheeks colouring slightly pink. I still like that a lot about him, the way he could, and still can be so self confident the one moment and shy the other moment. Especially if I was the one giving him a compliment. It gave me a rush back then, making him blush. Then I cupped his face with both of my hands and placed a kiss on his soft lips. He moaned faintly because of it. 

Although I was scared at first to mess up his hair, it looked so wonderful that day, as soon as Paul pushed me back against the wall, against the coats that were hanging on the hat rack, I didn’t care about that anymore. He was pretty too with his hair being ruffled. 

I felt him as he grinded against me, his hips against mine. Yeah, of course I felt his erection through his trousers, but it wasn’t that. It wasn’t our chests against each other, not our mouths locked or his hands in my hair, nor my hands in his. It was something different. This wasn’t a physical thing.

It had been physical up until then. We had been kissing before; after we’d told each other we fancied each other. We’d been wanking together, even before being honest about or feelings. That kind of things, touching each other up. It had not gone any further than that. Until that summer afternoon. 

I could fucking feel the love glow inside Paul. His body against mine, and all I thought was about that burning feeling in my chest, my head and not down there like usual. It was the moment where it stopped being mainly physical and became mostly mental. When Paul looked up at me, I saw the look in his eyes and I knew he had to be feeling the same way. Then he just embraced me tightly, his head resting on my shoulder and mine on his. 

Like that, we clung on to each other. For quite some time, I might add. It felt like we were drinking each other’s love, making us feel giddy and odd in the abdomen. When we broke the hug, the both of us were week in the knees and shivering even in the warmth all around us. We sat down opposite of each other, slowly, backs leaning against the wall and we stared at each other. 

I still felt as if I was drowning myself in his eyes, they spoke for themselves. I felt very open at that moment, much more than before, much more than when I’m just talking. It was feeling as if we knew everything about each other, of which I still think it was rather strange seen as we weren’t doing drugs in those days. All there was was love and friendship, commitment to each other.

When Mike came home later that day, he found us sitting like that. I think he knew that this was special, although he acted in a very little brotherly way, rolling his eyes and stepping over our legs. 

I can’t even remember how I got home that way, just that it wasn’t our first kiss that changed our relationship forever into something others will never be able to comprehend, not even if they have experienced real love, but it was that particular afternoon that did it.

I loved him in a way that I couldn’t even understand myself. So much that I hated him for it, a mingling of feelings that I still haven’t completely sorted out yet. It was everything and nothing, simple and complicated. The only thing of which I know it was for sure, was that it was pure. There wasn’t a fake thing about our relationship, everything that happened and was said between us was very much true and real - both the good and the bad. 

In fact, I think that’s what love is about; finding a balance in good and bad, hate and love, without having it get too overwhelming. Exactly the reason why it didn’t work out between us. Our feelings for each other were too great to be tamed. We couldn’t handle them and eventually, after years of trying, an unstable relationship, the bad (sadly enough) over won.

I know he hates it, I know I hate it, but we both know we can’t help it. I do suspect that even if we’d try it on again, it wouldn’t ever work out the good way.


End file.
